The bus ride had felt longer than usual.

Maybe it was because summer had ended far too quickly, or maybe it was because the thought of another semester at university had settled heavily in your stomach. Either way, you sat near the middle of the bus, staring out the window as familiar streets rolled past. Students climbed on and off at every stop, their conversations blending into meaningless background noise.

You shifted in your seat and adjusted your bag.

The start of a new year.

A fresh start.

Hopefully.

Though, knowing your luck, you’d probably manage to embarrass yourself before making it through the first day.

It wasn’t exactly an irrational fear.

For as long as you could remember, you had an unfortunate talent for running into things. Door frames, tables, signposts, people. Somehow, despite your best efforts, your coordination seemed determined to betray you at every opportunity.

The bus finally slowed as it approached the university.

Students immediately began gathering their belongings, standing from their seats before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop. You waited patiently, gripping your backpack straps as the brakes hissed.

The doors opened.

Everyone began filing out.

You stood and joined the crowd.

So far, so good.

No tripping.

No falling.

No accidental collisions.

A personal record.

The thought had barely crossed your mind before fate decided to humble you.

Stepping toward the exit, you moved around another student and turned—

Thunk.

You walked directly into something.

Or rather, someone.

The impact nearly sent you stumbling backward.

Your first thought was that you’d somehow walked into a wall.

A very large wall.

A very solid wall.

Strong hands immediately reached out, catching your shoulders before you could lose your balance completely.

The person didn’t move an inch.

Meanwhile, you felt like you’d just bounced off concrete.

“Sorry,” you blurted automatically.

Mortified.

Of course this would happen.

First day back and you were already crashing into strangers.

Slowly, you looked up.

The man standing in front of you was enormous.

Broad shoulders stretched beneath a dark jacket, his frame practically blocking the bus doorway. A black skull-patterned mask concealed the lower half of his face, leaving only sharp brown eyes visible beneath messy blond hair.

The mask should’ve looked ridiculous.

Instead, it was strangely intimidating.

His gaze remained fixed on you for a long moment.

Silent.

Unreadable.

You felt your face growing warmer by the second.

“…You alright there?” he finally asked, his voice rough and unmistakably British.